


twists and turns that'll make the room spin

by karasunonolibero



Series: iwaoi horror week [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Body Horror, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, IwaOi Horror Week, M/M, Violence, breath of the wild AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-26
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2021-01-04 06:08:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21192827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karasunonolibero/pseuds/karasunonolibero
Summary: The map he and Iwaizumi had found the other day deep in the Hebra mountains had led them here, to the eastern edge of the region, where the labyrinth stands, tall and ominous, with a thin gap in the walls to enter. There’s only one way in or out, and they’re about to go in.~or, Iwaizumi and Oikawa enter a labyrinth in search of treasure. They may not make it out.





	twists and turns that'll make the room spin

**Author's Note:**

> day 2 of [iwaoi horror week](https://iwaoi-horror-week.tumblr.com/) woooo! carrying on with the breath of the wild au, may i present...this. title from [twisted by natewantstobattle](https://youtu.be/n9GerWgCfgA).
> 
> **DAY 2: BLESSINGS OF THE EARTH**  
a cursed place / the gang goes to Texas / the land’s no good here / **no end in sight** / **we found this map** / the second turn at the shrine / the sea stretches forever  
(plus a shoutout to 'a spool of thread' from day 1)

The walls of the labyrinth rise so high the tops are shrouded in mist. The map he and Iwaizumi had found the other day deep in the Hebra mountains had led them here, to the eastern edge of the region, where the labyrinth stands, tall and ominous, with a thin gap in the walls to enter. There’s only one way in or out, and they’re about to go in. Oikawa shudders, wrapping his wings around himself.

Iwaizumi eyes him. “Are you cold?”

“No! Why would I be cold? I’m a Rito. I’m built for the cold,” Oikawa huffs, even as he watches his breath escape in a cloud of condensation.

Iwaizumi snorts, unwinds his scarf, and hands it over. “Take it. If you don’t, I’m going in without you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You Hylians get cold easily, don’t you?” But Oikawa takes the scarf anyway, winding it around his neck. “This had better be worth it.”

“Says the one who wanted to come here in the first place!”

“You’re always running off on adventures! You wanted to go, too!”

Iwaizumi doesn’t argue with that, pulling the map out of his bag and perusing it once more. Oikawa memorized the verse written on it as they fought their way across the tundra.

_To the east, beyond the snow_

_Where the frozen north winds blow_

_Find the runes upon the plinth_

_And enter here, the labyrinth_

_If the path you should survive_

_Upon the treasure you’ll arrive_

_And when you wish to return home_

_A hero’s heart is yours to own._

“Do you really think there’s treasure in there?” Oikawa says, folding up the map.

“Who knows? But at least I can prove I have the heart of a hero.” Iwaizumi shrugs. “If the prince finds out we’ve been running around the tundra on a treasure hunt instead of training, he’ll kill us.”

“He won’t. We’re too valuable,” Oikawa says. He’s not even bragging—the two of them are essential to the prince’s plan to protect Hyrule, so it would’t do for either of them to die. He scowls up at the mist blanketing the tops of the walls. If it weren’t so thick and so low, he’d just fly up and figure out the path from above. But the other option is to find their way through on foot. “Hey, Iwa-chan?”

“I still don’t know where you got that nickname from.”

“_Iwa-chan_.”

“What?”

“Don’t…don’t die, okay?” Oikawa turns his face away and he’s thankful he can’t blush as humans do; as it is, the feathers around his neck just puff up a bit.

“Don’t be stupid.” But Iwaizumi squeezes his wing anyway and doesn’t let go. “Ready?”

“More ready than you!”

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes, and together, they step into the labyrinth. The path before them is perfectly straight, and more than wide enough for both of them to walk side-by-side.

“You don’t suppose this’ll lead us right to the treasure, huh?” Iwaizumi mutters.

Oikawa hums, running a wingtip over the walls. They’re rough stone, carved with abstract square patterns. “Probably not,” he says absently. “It did say labyrinth, after all, and it wouldn’t be much of one if there was a straight path.”

The farther they walk into the maze, the more the sound of howling winds from outside fade away, until it’s completely silent. Oikawa doesn’t like this. He prefers the wind whipping past his ears, deafening him as he soars through the sky. Now it’s so quiet he’s hyperaware of the sound of his breathing, of his footsteps, of Iwaizumi’s armor rustling as they walk together.

The path splits in two, and they’re faced with their first choice. “Wait,” Iwaizumi says when Oikawa starts to turn left. “I think we should mark the walls or something. So we know where we’ve been.”

“Do you have anything to mark with?”

“Uh…” Iwaizumi rummages through his bag, only to come up empty. “No.”

“Wait.” Oikawa pecks at the wall, wondering if he can make an indentation as a marker, but just ends up smashing his beak into the stone. “Fuck!”

“That’s what you get, idiot,” Iwaizumi grumbles. “Pride of the Rito, my _ass_.”

“Yes, I am, thank you very much,” Oikawa says as primly as is possible with a sore beak, though his voice comes out slightly nasally. “Wait, I may have something.” He flips open his own messenger bag, coming up with a ball of yarn. “Aha!”

“Yarn,” Iwaizumi says flatly. “And how is yarn supposed to help us?”

“We unravel it as we go, so then if we need to turn back we can just follow the yarn.” Oikawa holds the ball up, cradling it in his wings. “It’s better than nothing, right?”

“I guess it is,” Iwaizumi agrees. “So, left?”

Oikawa drops the end of the yarn to the ground, letting it unravel a bit, and they set off. They choose paths at random and retrace their steps when they hit dead ends, and it’s extremely slow going and as much as Oikawa wants to flap his wings and zip down these paths, he doesn’t want to leave Iwaizumi in the dust.

Huh. Imagine that. Oikawa not wanting to leave someone in the dust. He glances over at Iwaizumi, whose brow is furrowed and hand tensed on his sword as they walk.

“What?” Iwaizumi asks.

“Ah…nothing.”

“You’re staring at me.”

“I was not!”

Iwaizumi pauses, reaching out for Oikawa’s wing and reeling him in. “Just…stay alert. I don’t know what’s in this place.”

“Nothing, from the sound of it.” And it’s true. Oikawa hasn’t heard a single sound other than their own footsteps.

“Still.”

They press on, backtracking again to try a different direction. They take a left turn and find the path much narrower, pressing them so close their shoulders touch as they pick their way through.

Oikawa has no idea how much time has passed. The only thing he has is the slow darkening of the sky, barely noticeable with how overcast the sky normally is anyway.Every so often, Iwaizumi pauses to take a drink from his waterskin and won’t take another step until Oikawa does too. The yarn starts to tangle from the messy way Oikawa gathers it back up when they backtrack, a knotted ball dangling from his wingtips, but he pays it no mind.

Eventually, Iwaizumi speaks up. “Can we take a break?” he asks, collapsing to the floor.

Oikawa’s nearing exhaustion, too, but that doesn’t stop him from retorting. “Ah, so the great hero asks for a reprieve! I am, once again, the superior warrior,” he brags. Next thing he knows, Iwaizumi’s hand is curled around his ankle and _yanking_, knocking Oikawa to the ground. He lands flat on his back, the wind knocked out of him for a split second. Iwaizumi chuckles, the sound coming from deep in his chest. “Come on, you’ll live.”

“Shut up.” Oikawa shuts his eyes, and when he opens them again, Iwaizumi is gone.

Wait…what?

He bolts upright, groaning at the dizziness from sitting up so quickly. Iwaizumi probably just left to scout out another path. Probably. But he can’t have gone far, because Oikawa is the one with the yarn. Everything is fine.

Oikawa looks down to see the ball of yarn, wrapped up neatly and sitting in his lap.

He looks behind him. No yarn.

No yarn. No way to know which way is out.

“Iwa-chan?” he calls out. No answer. “Iwa-chan? _Iwaizumi_!” The last one comes out as a screech, but the noise just gets swallowed up by the maze. “Holy Hylia, this is bad.”

He has two options. He can try to find Iwaizumi and possibly get himself hopelessly lost, or he can try to find the exit and also possibly get himself hopelessly lost. He takes a deep breath and starts walking.

He walks, and he walks, and he walks. And he walks. He calls out for Iwaizumi periodically, but the response is always complete silence. He keeps walking, the yarn abandoned in his bag now. There’s no point in it now. He turns down corridors at random, driven only by the need to find Iwaizumi. Once he finds him, then they can worry about getting out. But only then.

He keeps going, walking when his wings tire of flying and flying when his feet tire of walking.Still no Iwaizumi.

“Iwa-chan…” he tries to shout, but his voice is weak now, constricted by exhaustion and fear. With the last burst of strength left in his wings, he calls on the wind to take him higher, wings pressed flush to his body as he shoots into the air. Maybe if he gets high enough, he can find his way back to Rito Village for help. He scoffs to himself. Oikawa Tooru, the Grand King of the Sky, asking for help.

“You’re lucky I like you, Iwa-chan, otherwise I’d have left you to rot in here,” he mutters as he ascends through the mist. It’s even heavier the higher he goes, so opaque it blocks out anything else. He flaps his wings to slow his ascent, stopping right in the thick of the fog, and immediately he realizes his mistake. He has no way which way he’s facing, which way would take him back toward the entrance. He twists around a few times but only succeeds in disorienting himself further. This was no help.

So he flies back down into the labyrinth, bringing his feet up to land, only for his wing to seize up with a cramp. He falls flat on his face with an ungraceful squawk, rolling head over feet until he crashes into a wall.

“Ow,” he mutters to himself, curling a wing over his throbbing head. “Iwa-chan, you bastard, _where_ are you?”

Oikawa lets himself lie there for a few minutes, stewing in the hopelessness of the situation. He can’t get out. He can’t find Iwaizumi. He has no waterskin, because he’s stupid under all the confidence. His chest heaves as he forces himself to take a few deep breaths.

He opens his eyes and sits up to see—

“Iwa-chan!” he warbles happily. Goddess, he’s never been so happy to see that scowl in his life. Grinning, he launches himself at Iwaizumi’s chest, knowing he’ll be caught.

Iwaizumi flickers out of sight and Oikawa’s wings wrap around air. He blinks, befuddled, and turns back around to where Iwaizumi was just standing. In his place is a scrap of light blue fabric.

Iwaizumi’s tunic.

“Shit,” Oikawa whispers. So Iwaizumi came this way. He bends down to scoop it up, but his wing passes right through it. “Oh, fuck, not this too.”

He whirls around, wings knocking against the wall. Is this labyrinth playing tricks on his mind? Can it even do that? What spirits lived here that could do such a thing? Breath quickening, he takes off at a wild run, paying no attention to which paths he’s taking. He has no idea where he’s going but at least he feels like he’s doing something.

His foot hits something and he goes flying once again. “Fuck!” he grumbles, rubbing his foot and looking back to what he’s tripped over.

Two treasure chests gleams gold, bright even in the shadows, as though mocking him. So he’s found the treasure, but at what cost? Angry, he kicks the first one open, the pain shooting dully up his shin.

The first one holds a dazzling array of diamonds, sapphires, and rubies, shimmering in the dim light. The second holds a too-familiar sword lying atop a too-familiar light blue tunic. “No,” he breathes. “No, no…” He looks up, to the fog, as though it has answers for him. “_What have you done with him_?”

A section of the wall begins to slide sideways, revealing a secret chamber. And inside, on a stone slab, lies Iwaizumi, wearing only his trousers. Heavy black chains around his wrists and ankles keep him in a spread eagle position. His chest rises and falls slowly.

“No!” Oikawa chokes out, almost tripping over the open chest to get to the doorway—and runs into an invisible wall that keeps him outside. He bangs a fist against it and lets out an angry squawk. “Who are you? What do you want? Give him back!”

“_A hero’s heart is yours to own_.”

The voice booms in Oikawa’s mind like a chorus of seventy people speaking all at once, echoing behind his eyes and overwhelming every other sense he has. He falls to his knees, wings pressed over his ears as though it’ll block the sound out. “Stop it!” he shrieks. “Who are you?”

There’s a faraway hissing sound. “_I am the spirit of the labyrinth. If you want to return to your village, you must abide by the instructions you were given._”

“What instructions?”

The sword flies out of the trunk, landing at Oikawa’s feet.

“_A hero’s heart is yours to own. Remove his heart, and you will return home_.”

“Fuck, no!” Oikawa’s stomach churns at the very thought. Sure, they’d gotten off the wrong foot, and they’ve had their scuffles…but he could never. He couldn’t bring himself to. “I’ll stay here. I don’t care.”

Another hissing sound. “_Then die here with him_.”

“Good!” Oikawa kicks the chest aside and turns away, only to run smack into another invisible barrier. “What the fuck?”

The spirit’s trapped him here now, in a small square of the maze, so he’s forced to look at Iwaizumi. Oikawa sighs and slumps against the wall. He closes his eyes and prays for a peaceful death in his sleep. It shouldn’t take long with a lack of water.

When he opens his eyes next, there’s a jug next to him, filled to the brim with water. His dry mouth makes him reach for it and he’s got it halfway to his beak before he remembers. No. You’re dying. So he throws the jug against the wall, watching the jug shatter and the water spill on the ground. “You won’t tempt me,” he declares.

“Perhaps not that way,” the spirit muses. “Consider, though, that even after you die, your hero will remain here, barely alive, just waiting for some other adventurer to claim his heart.”

Oikawa bristles at the idea of anyone so much as laying a hand on Iwaizumi. _It could be you,_ a voice inside him whispers. _You could just do it, return home, make his own death quick._

“No,” he says out loud, turning away so he can’t see Iwaizumi’s chamber.

He can feel himself weakening. Each movement of his wings takes more effort than before, and he can’t follow a train of thought for long before the dizziness clouds his mind. At least the spirit doesn’t try to tempt him again. The lethargy turns his wings and his legs to lead, until he’s flat on his back, staring up at the fog. He wishes he could see the Tabantha sky one more time. He dimly remembers how he and Iwaizumi used to sit out on the landing, pointing at the stars and making up constellations.

“The glowing mushroom,” he mumbles to nobody, tongue thick in his mouth. “The glowing mushroom…and…the…spotted frog…”

More time passes, or maybe it doesn’t. He’s not sure. Until eventually, when he opens his eyes, all he sees is light. And Iwaizumi, far in the distance. Oikawa extends a wing, reaches for him.

“Iwa-chan!”

Iwaizumi turns to face him, and Oikawa almost screams. There’s something wrong with his face. Those are his features, sure, but they’re all just slightly off. One eye is bigger than the other,nose set too far to the left, and when he pulls his lips back to smile, he has two rows of knifelike teeth. Oikawa looks down and gasps, eyes following the deep lacerations across Iwaizumi’s chest, all fresh and dripping crimson. And in the center, a gaping hole where his heart should be.

“What…?” Oikawa draws his arm back.

“_You should have taken it when you had the chance_.” Iwaizumi’s mouth is moving, but the voice Oikawa hears is that of the labyrinth’s spirit. There’s the flash of a dagger, pain exploding in his chest, and then…nothing.

**Author's Note:**

> i've not really written much horror/gore before so i hope this was okay!!


End file.
